


Insomnia

by CaptClockwork



Series: Good Omens x Reader fics [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gender nonspecific reader, I love how all of those are already tags, Insomnia, Just Say 'Meh' to Betas, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Small Hurt/Large Comfort, Supportive Aziraphale (Good Omens), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 12:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19905937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptClockwork/pseuds/CaptClockwork
Summary: You take a deep breath, closing your eyes, trying to remember your long learned tricks to steady yourself and your mind. After a few calming breaths, your heart rate feels a bit more normal, but you can still feel the shakiness in your fingers and the tremble in your bottom lip. Without thinking, your hand reaches to your phone, plugged into the charger next to you. Flicking through the lock screen, you call the only person you imagine would be awake at this hour, fingers working quickly before your logical mind can argue against it.For the prompt:"Reader has really bad insomnia and Aziraphale decides to keep her company through the night and + it turns into an improvised indoor camping date night with lots of cuddles, cocoa, snacks and book reading until reader gets exhausted enough to fall asleep."Reader's gender and name are not specified in this story





	Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by the lovely @abelpuff on twitter!
> 
> This is my first time doing a reader fic, so please give me some constructive criticism!

You turn over in bed, the sheets bunching up uncomfortably around your legs as you shift to read the time on your bedside table. 

**1:45** the clock informs you, red light unforgiving to your sleepless plight. 

You turn your face to give a loud and frustrated groan into the pillow, thinking about how miserable you’re bound to be in the morning. Nights like this, sleepless nights with racing thoughts and wide eyes staring at the ceiling, they tended to do a number on you. And with one brought another, and then another, making your eyes cross and your mind worse and worse at keeping haunting thoughts at bay…

Your breath comes out in one violent huff as you sit up, frustrated. Okay, well, if your body was going to force you to be awake, you might as well make the most of it. 

You rip the covers off with a bit more force than strictly necessary, swinging your legs over the bed and onto the soft carpet, letting your toes sink in to give you a sense of calm for a moment, before you look around the room, hunting for something to keep your mind occupied. 

You spy a book on the bedside table, one you’re already halfway through. Aziraphale lent it to you a few days ago, and ever since you haven’t been able to put the thing down. You swipe it from its place near your clock, taking it to a small but comfortable chair in the corner of your room to settle in. 

By the time you think to look up, the clock’s angry red numbers inform you you’ve been reading for an hour. You sigh, laying the book on your lap, tapping on the hardcover with one finger as you think. No matter how good the book is, your thoughts can help but wander, as they’re wont to do at this time of night. You can feel your heart start to race as your anxieties ramping up, your thoughts an endless cycle that you can’t seem to stop. 

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes, trying to remember your long learned tricks to steady yourself and your mind. After a few calming breaths, your heart rate feels a bit more normal, but you can still feel the shakiness in your fingers and the tremble in your bottom lip. Without thinking, your hand reaches to your phone, plugged into the charger next to you. Flicking through the lock screen, you call the only person you imagine would be awake at this hour, fingers working quickly before your logical mind can argue against it. 

“Hello?” Aziraphale answers after two rings. 

“Aziraphale, hey, it’s me.” You can feel the hard set of your shoulders already start to release a little at the sound of his voice. 

“Oh! What are you doing up at an hour like this?” The angel asks, concern barely hidden from his tone. “You need your sleep.”   
“I-I know, but I couldn’t get my head out of that book you lent me.” You lie quickly, looking down at the cover. The red and white stripes of its front art glare at you almost like the clock on the bedside table. 

“Oh, I know, it’s very good, isn’t it?” Aziraphale responds, obviously excited to hear you’ve been reading it. “It’s one of my favorites by him. I have lots more in that same narrative universe, when you’re finished with that one.”

“Yeah, the world he creates is so wild, I end up reading the same page twice over just to let all the little odds and ends soak in.” You say, falling easily into this discussion, like many before it with the angel. 

“Me too! Oh, I’ve read that one countless times. I can’t wait until you start some of the others. They’re all delightful.” There’s a slight pause before he continues “Er, since you’re awake. Would you want to continue the discussion here? If you’re not, ah, busy, of course.” 

“Oh, yes! That sounds real nice!” You say, a bit too quickly after his offer. You cringe a bit internally to yourself, but the angel doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Great!” He shouts excitedly from the other end of the line. “Okay, give me, ah, ten minutes to get everything set up. See you soon!”

“ ‘Get everything set up’?“ You ask, but he’s already hung up. 

***

It doesn’t take you long to walk to his little slice of Soho. His shop is the only one lit up among all the other long closed establishments, and it looks like a beacon calling to you as you walk along the cold and empty London streets. 

You knock on the door, unable to see him from where you are outside. 

“Just a minute!” You hear a voice call from somewhere inside the shop. 

You stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket, trying to ignore the twist of nerves inside your stomach as you wait for him to open the door. And, of course, when he finally unlocks the door and lets you inside, the twist turns into a flutter, breaking free and infecting every inch of you. You can feel it like a heat in your blood, infecting your bones as you look at his cheery smile, so obviously full of genuine welcome. 

“Oh, that was a faster ten minutes than I thought!” The angel says leading you inside the shop and offering to take your coat much like he always did. You slip it off, trying your damnedest not to blush as he takes it and carefully hands it on the coat rack beside the door.   
“What are you ‘setting up’, anyway?” You ask, continuing your unanswered question from earlier. 

Aziraphale pauses, looking a little nervous suddenly, his bright smile fading slightly. 

“It’s ah, well, it’s probably silly,” He tuts, his eyes looking everywhere but at your own, his hands fidgeting nervously in front of himself. 

Seemingly automatically, your hands capture his own. He looks up at you with a surprised and slightly startled expression. 

“I’m sure it’s great.” You assure him, your voice sounding thankfully far less shy than you were feeling currently. 

He seems reassured by the gesture and, to your surprise, gives your hands a gentle squeeze. His smile softens and, still with his hand in yours, he leads you to the back of the shop. 

As soon as you make it past the grove of bookcases, you see something that looks like a makeshift tent made up of blankets, You can’t see inside from this angle, but you can see a soft glow coming from somewhere inside the fort. 

“I, ah, read somewhere that this was a human pastime,” Aziraphale explains hurriedly, voice tight with nerves. “Making small homes out of blankets. I thought it might be a fun thing to, ah, do together?” 

He pitches the last word up as if it was a question, turning to you. 

You instantly break out into a grin, unable to help yourself. 

“This looks _amazing_!” You gush, turning away from the tent to look at him, sure that genuine affection had to be leaking from your expression. “I haven’t been in a blanket fort in years.” 

Aziraphale looks relieved, tension visibly leaving his shoulders. 

“I have to look inside!” You insist excitedly, getting closer to the fort and kneeling down to find your way inside. 

It’s small but cozy, the floor covered in a multitude of blankets in various shapes and sizes as well as a sizable number of pillows which lined the edges. You can see the angel already stacked one corner full of a variety of books, including another copy of the book you had been discussing earlier. The ceiling is covered in soft glowing orbs, almost like fairy lights, but they didn’t seem to be attached to any sort of electrical light source.   
The angel catches you looking at the orbs with wonder and explains “The article said to add soft lighting. I- I wasn’t sure what would be suitable, so I just-” He waved his hand. “Miracled a little something up.”

“They’re beautiful,” You assure him, pulling your eyes away from the lights to look at him again. “This whole place is perfect. Thank you.” 

You can’t exactly tell in the dim lighting from the tent, but you could almost swear the angel blushes. 

***

You’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you find the two of you still in the tent. It feels like a little oasis in here, a universe away from the world outside. You feel as though your anxieties were left in your bedroom, worlds away from where you are now. 

The angel has long ago rid himself of his shoes and socks as well as his coat and vest, content to lay against the pillows in just his button down shirt and trousers. The two of you had finished off a plate of s’mores (which the angel insisted he read was “customary” according to his research) as you took turns reading more of the book to each other. 

Now you’re curled up among the nest of blankets and pillows, chatting together about everything and nothing. At some point you found your head had strayed from the pillow adjacent to his to his shoulder. Once your face hit the soft material of his shirt, you felt your stomach freeze in fear, sure he would push you away. But he merely stuttered in his speech before continuing, making as though the move was nothing. It wasn’t long, though, until his arm found a way around your shoulders, hand resting against your arm, encouraging you to cuddle closer. So you did, your heart somewhere in your throat, until your body was pressed up against his side. 

It’s surreal, like being in a dream, or being turned upside down. But now his fingers are making soft, subtle patterns against the skin of your arm, and you can’t help but melt despite your nerves. This may all be uncharted territory for the two of you, but you’re here with Aziraphale, and that simple fact alone fills you with peace. 

“Why did you invite me here tonight, Aziraphale?” You ask, your voice a bit low and slurred with a mixture of sleepiness and contentment.

“Hmm?” He hums, thrown off of his previous tangent about waiting for pomegranates to be in season again. “Oh, well, I…” 

He clears his throat nervously, and when he speaks again his voice is much softer, as if he’s telling a secret. “I knew you couldn’t be awake just because of the book. I-I’ve noticed that you go through these bouts- these times where you can’t seem to sleep. I know you’d rather keep private, the things that are on your mind, and that’s fine, dear. I just...I just wanted to be here for you, in some small way. Any way that I can.” 

Your hand reflexively twitches against its place on his chest, catching the fabric between your fingers. Your mouth opens slightly, but your mind is still trying to put together a good response to Aziraphale’s heartfelt confession.

You look up at him and find that your faces are very close now. His delicate blue eyes shine with something earnest and unspoken, and you know yours must look similar. You can feel something pulling in your stomach, in your chest, in your mind. Screaming at you to close the distance between your mouths. It feels like a magnet is trying to force you to him, and you can feel the warmth growing between your lips and his, a small pocket of air between the two of your faces begging you to close the gap. 

You don’t know how long you two are stuck in this limbo space before Aziraphale, seemingly drawn by the same energy you are, leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. It’s a soft, chaste kiss, but it speaks volumes. When you pull apart, the angel seems dazed, like he’s just been hit over the head. 

“That was…” Aziraphale breaths, looking at you with awe. “ _lovely_.”

For some reason, the only reaction you seem to have is to giggle. It comes out of you, an uncontrollable bubbling from your stomach and out of your mouth, filling the space between you with pleased laughter. You try to stifle it, worried, the angel will take it as an insult, but to your relief his own face breaks out into an impossibly wide grin and he laughs along, too. 

“I’ve been imagining that for a long time,” You admit between giggles, feeling lighter than you have in years. 

The angel is positively glowing, the orbs of gentle light around the tent reflecting off his expressive eyes, making them twinkle. 

“It’s such a relief to hear you say that,” He tells you in a rush of elated breath. “I’ve been thinking about the very same thing.” 

You sigh contentedly, settling back against Aziraphale, the tightness of nerves gone as you cuddle up close, wrapping your arms around his stomach and resting your head on his chest. 

“Thank you,” You mutter after a moment, your eyes already drifting closed. 

You feel gentle fingers running through your hair, which only pulls you closer and closer to sleep.

“Anytime, my dear,” Aziraphale whispers softly. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you have an idea for something you'd like to see me write, let me know! I do private fics for folks, too, if you have a specific scenario you'd like written that you wouldn't want to share with others. 
> 
> Requests are always open, feel free to drop me a prompt or a hello. 
> 
> Twitter @clockwork_capt  
> Tumblr captclockwork.tumblr.com


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